The Last Time
by 711LuvsRanger
Summary: Songfic to The Last Time by Taylor Swift with Gary Lightbody. Ranger and Steph both need more than back-and-forth games and late night visits and disappearances.


_A/N: Hi everyone. I have had to revise this story to remove the song lyrics I had included. I am sorry, I didn't realise they were not in the 'public domain' since you can find them freely on the internet and Youtube and I was in NO way trying to claim them as mine... But anyway, I was reported or something, so I am doing the right thing. I don't want to get into trouble or for my story to be deleted by the Eliminators. :(_

 _I don't think the story is as strong without the context the lyrics provide, so I'm sorry about that. Can I encourage you to Google the song and listen to it on Youtube while you read? I think it will enhance the story. :)_

 _So, INSPIRED BY by 'The Last Time' by Taylor Swift and Gary Lightbody._

* * *

 **RPOV**

 _I don't know why I just can't stay away..._

I slipped into Stephanie's apartment. It was late, after 1am, and I ghosted into her bedroom, happy as I always was to find her there alone. I eased into the chair she kept beside her bed, and watched, feeling myself relax gradually, my breathing slowed and the tension slipped from my shoulders.

These trips into her bedroom always helped me to feel calm and centred.

Except for the time I had slipped in, and found Morelli sprawled beside her, naked. I hadn't seen Morelli's truck in the carpark, so had assumed he wasn't there. I found out later the truck was in the shop, and Morelli was very much in Steph's bed. I had managed to slip out without waking either of them, but it had been months before I'd made one my late-night visits again. Months and a couple of trips 'in the wind', and a lot of time in the gym to work that image out of my head.

I wasn't sure why I felt so calm and relaxed watching her sleep. I didn't want to admit it was love. It was too hard to love someone who could never admit she loved me back, who always kept another man on a string. Too hard to love someone who could break your heart simply by saying yes to another man. So I kept the shield around my heart, with the excuses, the qualifications, the silent non-answers to difficult questions.

I knew I couldn't keep doing this. The late-night vigils, the kisses in the alley, the flirting and backing down. I couldn't keep playing these games, it was breaking me down.

I wished she could look at me just once and say 'I love you'. That she could come to me, not for protection, or support or help. Wished that she would come to me openly, honestly, protect **me** , support **me** , just love **me**. I wished I could drive to her apartment and never again check the carpark for another man's car.

I felt her wake, heard the minute change in her breathing, as always her awareness of my presence almost instantaneous. She lay unmoving, pretending she still slept. I didn't know why she would try, my senses were exquisitely acute, honed by years of fieldwork in dangerous, deadly places.

Perhaps she just didn't want to acknowledge me, didn't want to deal with me in her bedroom, at night. I suppose it was a bit creepy, some might say even stalker behaviour. But I wished she would just turn to me, say 'come to bed Ranger. I want you Ranger, just you, no one else'.

 _I wish I was at the top of her list..._

I couldn't keep doing this, coming here. This had to stop, I was just torturing myself. This had to be the last time.

 **SPOV**

 _He's here again, but I don't know why..._

I woke slowly, something teasing at the edge of my consciousness. I wasn't sure what it was, a sound (the faint tumbling of my locks, or the almost-silent sound of his breathing), a shift in the darkness (as he passed the window to the chair), or a smell (the unique, unmistakable scent of Bulgari and him). But something tickled my awareness and drew me from sleep. The faint prickling at the back of my neck was instantaneous, and I knew. Ranger.

I knew he sometimes came to sit by my bed at night. If it was anyone else in the world, I would have been sleeping with a loaded gun and my phone ready to hit 911. But, when I woke and knew it was him, I knew there was no threat. He never spoke, never touched me, just watched over me. He never came when Joe was there, only ever when I slept alone. I wasn't sure if he was aware when I woke with him there. It seemed unlikely that he would not know, but he never said anything, and he would just slip silently away.

I would lie in the darkness, aching to reach out to him, to beg him to climb into bed with me. I ached to hear him whisper endearments in my ears, to hold me to his furnace heat, to make me breathless with molten desire, and later limp with exhausted satisfaction.

What stopped me was the fear, the dread, the hollow uncertainty. He'd slept in this bed before, taken me to heights I'd never imagined. But then he'd left in the morning with damning dismissal, and heartbreaking avoidance of any future, any promise. I didn't think my heart could take that again. If he left again, the hole in my soul may be too big to patch.

And yet I ached for him to come to me like this. Felt safe, serene, while he watched over me. Despite everything he'd said to me in the past, I knew he was my best friend, my one solid rock I depended on no matter what. But, I wished, oh how I wished, he could be so much more. I wished he would reach out to me, say those four words I ached to hear, bare, unqualified, unrepentant… 'I love you Babe'.

 _I wish I was his, for real..._

So I lay there in the dark, waiting, hoping, in vain. Normally, he would stay about an hour, then slip away like smoke. Tonight I lay there, listening, and he stayed, it felt like hours. I did not know why he came, and I did not have the courage to ask. Despite the aching satisfaction of having him there, I couldn't keep doing this. I couldn't keep holding on, hoping for something that was never going to come, hoping for a miracle that never happened. This had to stop; all of it – the kisses in the alley, the teasing flirtations, and especially this. It had to stop. This had to be the last time.

 **RPOV**

So this has to be the last time I come, the last time I sit here, watch her sleep… or lie awake. I have to tell her it's the last time, I have to tell her goodbye. Somehow, I have to break this habit, this pattern, and not come back. I have to get up, leave, let her fall back to sleep. But somehow, knowing it's the last time, I can't bring myself to go.

 **SPOV**

I have to say something, to tell him to stop, to tell him to leave. I have to tell him he can't come back, can't keep hurting me with his 'no promises' pseudo-love. I have to break this pattern, it has to be the last time. But I lie there, aching, wishing, and I can't tell him to go.

Almost silently, just a breath in the night, I think I hear him, _"Babe…"_

Just as silently, I breathe back, _"Ranger…"_

 _AN: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story. I know many of you would like an HEA, but this is how it plays in my head._


End file.
